


Vignette Two

by missingmymothership



Series: Pojūtis ir Spalvos [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Gen, New Orleans, Pre-Canon, Synesthesia, synesthete!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 10:24:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4176306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missingmymothership/pseuds/missingmymothership
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will moves into his first house.</p><p>*Written by an actual synnie!*</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vignette Two

Will’d found himself a house. It was tiny and the floors creaked (tickled the backs of his knees) and the paint was peeling, but it had a yard and no ban on pets. A limit, but not a ban. And the police department he’d started with was quiet and nobody talked to him just yet. The house was cheap enough that he didn’t need a roommate. He was free in the silence and the sounds that he chose; it was heaven.

He started a bottle tree in the three feet of grass between the front porch and the chainlink fence separating him from the sidewalk, planted thistles in the cracked birdbath in the back, and retouched the blue-sky porch ceiling.

Yes, his work was hard, but New Orleans wasn’t exactly known as a peaceful city. Will knew what he’d gotten into.

He cooked often, sometimes clanging his ladle against his steel pot (a housewarming gift) to hear the crunchy-blue ring through the house. The scent of frying catfish was a happy emerald curl. Running water left a chill around his elbows.

Will Graham was...content. He missed the sound of the ocean, bright gold rushing past his ears, leaving the feeling of rough hands on his cheeks, and he missed the way the salt and seaweed smelled so clean, so round. Also gold. 

But he really was content in the city.

He danced in the house the day he got the keys, his feet making enough music and color that he could almost waltz the way they did in the movies his father’d loved to put on when he was a kid. Nearly an hour later he was sitting in the corner and gasping for air (blue-green-wet down his back) and laughing (coral and a kiss) and just barely crying.

He was happy. And he was free.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at lamby-grahamy if you haven't already. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed. :)


End file.
